Call Me Draco
by evermore-kisses
Summary: Draco Malfoy, a boy who is the definition of evil, at least, he is to Hermione Granger. Until that all changes. A mysterious kiss in the middle of the night leaves Hermione longing for more, even if the lips belong to one Slytherin snake. ON HAITUS.
1. The Silver Blonde Secret

**A/N:** JK Rowling owns all the characters, places, pretty much everything. (Though, I hope she'll sell me Draco to do with as I please =P) First uploaded fan-fic, so please **R&R** and I promise to reply :3 Continue, or not? Sorry for the shortness.

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CHAPTER ONE : THE SILVER BLONDE SECRET

The night was slipping rapidly away, dark clouds covering the bright moon so that an empty darkness crept through the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The only light was coming from the candles placed at intervals around the castle, some floating, some fixed onto walls or stands. The sudden darkness as all the candles blew out woke Hermione, who had been studying in an empty classroom since her days lessons had finished, and had ended up falling asleep on the desk as a result of it. Her caramel curls were sticking up at odd angles, and she rubbed her chocolate brown eyes with her fists as she tried to remember where she was. Of course, with the lights off, it wasn't as easy as she would have expected. Her eyes darted over to the window, and immediately grew large at the knowledge of just how much trouble she would be in if she was caught out of bed past curfew. "Damn," she muttered, grabbing her books and shoving them as quietly as she could manage into her bag, a brown satchel that her parents had bought her as an early birthday present just the day before.

The door wasn't as hard to spot now that her eyes had adjusted, and she knew that if she dared light her way with her wand, she would be spotted for sure. Instead, she scrambled for the door, knowing the loud creak that it would make if she attempted to pull it open, yet there was no other way. Grimacing as the sound of the old oak door being pulled at its hinges echoed through the castle, she slipped her slim form out of the small gap she had created. She blinked a few times as she entered into the corridor, once again lost in the pitch black darkness. A cool chill ran down her spine and she shivered, wishing she had had the sense to carry her winter cloak around with her, especially at this time of year. Her grey jumper and knee length pleated skirt were definitely not enough to keep her warm at this hour, even with the woolly black tights she was wearing.

Her feet pulled her left and she followed them without question, her footfalls loud in the silence around her. She grimaced at the thought of Filch catching her sneaking around like this or - even worse - Snape. She really could do without a months worth of detention, especially with Christmas approaching at a rapid pace. Hermione's pace quickened in the need that she felt to return to the Gryffindor common room before being caught, and it was all she could do to stop herself from running. It didn't take her long to realise where she was, and how close to the common room she was. Letting out a sigh of breath that she didn't know she had been holding in, Hermione suddenly paused. Someone had been stood right in front of her, mere inches away from where she now stood... only, where were they now? She held her position for what felt like forever, not letting a single breath leave her mouth, not moving a single muscle. She waited... and waited.

Hermione shook her head slightly, telling herself that she had simply imagined the tall figure, yet she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She shivered again, realising that it perhaps wasn't the cold that was getting under her skin, but the sheer dread that sank her heart to the pit of her stomach. Nibbling her lip slightly, she headed back in the direction she had been traveling before the darkness had tricked her, eager to reach the warmth of her four poster bed and the safety of her friends' company. She could already feel the heat of the last glowing embers of the fire and her toes wriggles in anticipation, a new found confidence pushing her on further. Hermione jumped as an owl hooted from outside, a small gasp coming from her lips. And then she felt it, a firm hand on the small of her back, pulling her over to one of the corridor walls. A scream grew on her lips, a scream of fear and desperation, only it never left her lungs. Firm lips crushed against her own, softly caressing hers in a way that told the desperate needs of the mysterious kisser, yet portrayed how much the girl meant to the person. Hermione's head became fuzzy as her tongue slipped into the mouth of the boy in front of her, for it was definitely a male. The way his hands felt against her skin, smooth yet too manly to be female, the way he battled with her for dominance, the way she was being pressed into the wall behind her and the way that her hand tangled into short hair all backed up her initial thought - definitely male.

Eyes shut, Hermione knew nothing of the man in front of her, and even if her eyes had been searching for him, the darkness would mask him all to well. Every conscious part of her mind was screaming at her to stop, screaming that it could be anyone, yet her body overthrew it with the fire coursing through her veins at his very touch. Never did she want to let go, yet at that thought she felt the absence of his lips from hers. It took a few seconds for Hermione to pull her eyes open, prepared to ask for a single word, a single name, but the figure of the tall boy was no longer in front of her. As her eyes moved across to the large door across the other end of the corridor, she could have sworn she had seen a flash of silver blonde.


	2. Thank Bezoar!

**A/N:** Thank you all for the hits I got on the first chapter '**The Silver Blonde Secret**'. I was no where near expecting all these favourites, reviews and messages. Cookies all around! Again, Ms. Rowling owns, not me, unfortunately, or I would have a lot of money :) Hope you like, very boring chapter, sorry guys, but it was necessary. Please **R&R** and I promise to reply. Thankyou, and enjoy!

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CHAPTER TWO : THANK BEZOAR

"Miss Granger?"

The sniveling voice pulled Hermione out of her trance, and she raised her dreamy eyes up to meet those of the speaker, a one Professor Snape. Only moments before she had been thinking about the last night, about how she still had no idea who the mysterious kisser was, and she couldn't help replaying the kiss over and over in her mind until it now seemed far too magical to be real, seemed more like a dream in which she could find her happy ending. And then she was reminded about the hellish potions lesson she was currently sat in. So hellish that her evil, Satan like, teacher was glaring down at her from his staggering height above her and past his greasy, black, too long, hair.

Snape's dark eyes bored into her own, and Hermione blinked as though his eyes were burning into her mind, and in that moment she realised that was exactly what they were doing. Snape was using legilimens against her, to try and get into her mind and be an even more of an annoying git than he had already proved to be. Disgusted that her teacher would do such a thing, Hermione sent up a wall to block his thoughts, instead thinking about his very hooked nose and how greasy his hair was. Smiling innocently up at him, she pulled out of her thoughts to reply. "Yes, sir?" she asked in a voice so sugary it shocked even herself with its sweetness. Snape glared at her, his eyes becoming narrow slits in his ugly face, never had a student other than Pansy Parkinson used such a tone with him, but she was just annoying. He nodded to his left, motioning to the blonde boy stood besides him.

"Malfoy, work with Granger, before she forgets the... rules" He spat the words at her, so violently that she pulled back slightly to try and stop herself being impaled by saliva. Hermione felt her cheeks grow a deep shade of magenta, and hid behind her long hair to try and hide her anger. Think about the kiss, think about the kiss. She told herself, knowing it was the only way to stop herself from storming out of the classroom in tears, even after all these years of abuse from Snape, and now when he clearly knew what she had been thinking just moments before. She couldn't help cursing him under her breath before dragging her books over to Malfoy's desk, narrowing her chocolate brown eyes at him before he could even utter one word. "Granger," he muttered to her, glaring back at her. "Malfoy," she snarled at him, hating the very word almost as much as she hated the person in front of her, if that was at all possible.

Pushing up the sleeves of her red and gold trimmed jumper, she saw Malfoy doing the same with his green and silver one, and it was the first time she caught a glimpse of his hands. Man hands, the kind that all guys their age wanted but only a small amount of them could really have, strong hands that could handle anything perfectly. As the thought ran through her mind, she blushed strongly, letting a single curl fall over her face again to hide her reddening cheeks from anyone else around her. Looking up at Malfoy, Hermione turned towards the ingredients cupboard to get what they both needed, still fuming at the fact she had to work with the snooty ferret in the first place, yet knowing that hiding in the cupboard was the best way to hide her red cheeks. "Bezoar, bezoar, bezoar," she muttered under her breath, searching the cluttered shelves for the antidote that she was looking for. The shelves were riddled with anything apart from the one small thing she was looking for. Hairs of various animals were held in vials next to silvery liquids of some kind, that were far too advanced for even Hermione to recognise. After a minute of looking, she spotted the antidote, and reached for it, being on the top shelf. She had always hated being so small, but now she hated it even more than ever. Even when she stood on her tiptoes, there was no way she was even close to reaching it. She stretched herself out, unaware of the grey eyes behind her carefully watching the rise of her pleated skirt up her thighs.

"Out of the way, mudblood."

Hermione started at the voice, but her anxiety soon turned to pure hate. Mudblood. She hated that word, it was so... Slytherin. There was nothing dirty about her blood at all, and it was no fault of her own that she was born into a muggle family. She stood up tall, proud, knowing how proud of her her dentist parents were, knowing how she was no worse than anyone pure blood, least of all, Malfoy. She glared once more at him as he grabbed the bezoar with such ease, and dropped it into her hand. One thing she was not expecting was for him to carefully place it into her palm, pressing his hand onto her own, before pulling back from her. In that moment, she had looked into her eyes, and she had seen past the grey, she had seen the warmth of his grey eyes, not the cool side she had always known. As he sauntered back to their place in a true Malfoy swagger, she cleared her throat before following him out, head held high, telling herself it was only Malfoy, nothing more, and there could never be anything less than him. Telling herself that the feeling in her chest, like a slowly burning fire, was due to her anger, never him, never.

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Half an hour passed, and by the time they were done their potion, with much arguments and disagreements, Hermione's face was riddled with black smudge marks from various sections of the potion. Perhaps if Malfoy wasn't such a proud git he would have allowed her to just make the potion on her own. But no, of course he wasn't going to do that, he was going to make her life hell and generally get her into trouble. In the end, their potion had ended up the complete wrong colour, and Hermione swore that those bubbles were definitely not supposed to be emitting some kind of purple gas that caused you to cough if you breathed it in. It was all his fault, him and his stupid pride.

"Fail." Snape snarled at her, a grim smile pulling up his thin lips. "No doubt you're to blame Miss Granger? You'll come back every night for detention until you can perfect this. No questions." Hermione's jaw dropped further than she ever thought it could. Surely he was joking, or at least, he must have been talking to the two of them? There was no chance in hell that he would single her out purely to make extra jabs at Gryffindor, or - rather - Harry Potter. "Draco, you can cover Miss Granger's detention, if you may." Snape concluded, causing Hermione's already doe eyes to widen even more. He wasn't joking. He was simply letting Malfoy get his chance to torture her in every way that he could, and every way that was possible.

Malfoy nodded, pushing back his pale blonde hair with his hands. His hands. Hermione remembered. The hands, pressing against her back, pushing her into the stone wall. Strong hands, hands that could handle anything perfectly. Smooth hands. Hands just like those of Draco Malfoy.

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**A/N: **as I said, boring, but dun-dun-dun! What's Hermione going to do now? You'll actually have to wait a week this time because I'm going away. Thankyou.


	3. Call Me Draco

**A/N:** Thanks again guys for all of the faves, but please, **R&R **if you like it :) Just a note; I changed the rating up to Mature because I felt I was straying into it, or at least toeing the line. It's just a safety thing, so sorry if it effects you/reading CMD. I do not own any of these characters, places, odd wizardy words, but I do own the plot. Drabble drabble drabble, this chapter is, sorry P: Please tell me what you think!

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CHAPTER THREE : CALL ME DRACO.

"Poor little mudblood."

Hermione looked up from the cauldron she was scrubbing to glare at the blonde boy hovering over her shoulder. Her shirt sleeves were pushed up past her elbows and her jumper already stripped off besides her. Snape had not been joking when he had set her detention, and she had been told to return every night after lessons were through until she had scrubbed every single grimy cauldron clean of every speck of dirt. Of course, if she could use her wand her task would be done in a matter of seconds, but that wasn't how Snape worked. No, instead, he liked to give her enemies power over her, and especially one enemy in particular – Draco Malfoy. "Go to hell, Malfoy." She muttered, hating the way he twirled her wand in his fingers to show the amount of power that he really had over her. He had been hovering over her shoulder for the past hour, insulting her and occasionally pointing out patches that she had missed, more often than not. Sometimes – and Hermione was thankful for these – he would wander out of the classroom for some unknown reason of his. Probably to suck face with Pansy, or some other girl that the Slytherin slut was sleeping with.

Malfoy leant over her, placing his sharp chin on her shoulder. "See, Granger, even _swotty_ mudbloods get dirty," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling against her neck and making her shiver ever so slightly. Her dark eyes closed and she nibbled her lip a little, hating the effect that he had on her whenever he did anything like that, when their hands brushed slightly or when she caught his eye, something that seemed to disgust both of them, yet secretly made her heart flip in a way that she didn't even want to admit to herself, in a way that she hoped would soon vanish without leaving an indent of where it once sat. She slowly opened her eyes back up and stared down at her knees, above which sat her pleated skirt resting on her thighs, as she leant over to get back to work. Perhaps if she didn't have underlying emotions for the one person that she hated more than anyone in the entire world, of both muggles and wizards, perhaps then she would have answered him back with a loud enough voice to reach his ears. Instead, she whispered to herself under a sigh, hoping with her life that he didn't hear her. Though, maybe if he did, she would know the truth, the truth of the kiss that had left her heart beating one hundred times faster than normal since the night it had happened and ended as suddenly as it had started.

He must have seen her lips move, or he must have heard the faint mutter from where he stood, but whatever it was he heard, he heard it alright. "What was that, Granger? Something you want to share with little old me?" He laughed at his own - extremely unfunny - joke, a harsh, almost sarcastic, sound that rang around the dungeons and made Hermione cringe as it bounced back at her from the four walls that held her captive in the room with the one person that she wanted dead. She could have blushed, have shaken her head in denial at the words that she had just spoken, could have got out while she still had that chance. Only she didn't. Pushing herself up, Hermione's fingers curled up into fists as she turned around to face Malfoy, the smile still lingering on his lips. It was then that she noticed his tousled hair, as though he had been running his fingers through it constantly, yet seemed far too perfect to be the creation of stress, noticed the way that his light grey eyes sparkled in the moments just after a laugh slipped from his extremely soft looking lips, that curled up in a perfect smile. He was beautiful. Hermione cleared her throat, looking for a part of his body that she could focus on to stop her cheeks growing redder, and to stop her from thinking such devilish thoughts, if there was such a place, for it seemed she was forever embarrassed in his presence, and every inch of his body was pure perfection. Shame he was such a tosser.

"I said, at least I'm not afraid to show my face to those that I kiss," Hermione said, her sheer stubborn nature taking control of her mouth to get the words off of her lips and into his ears. Determination glowed in her brown eyes, and now she was the one smiling, despite her anger. Of course, she wasn't certain that it was Malfoy who had kissed her, but she had a pretty good feeling it had been, due to her current infatuation with every single movement he did that was focused upon her, and for those small, unnoticeable moments that ran between the two of them. Then again, Hermione was a girl who liked to believe that one day, her prince would come. After all, it worked for Sleeping Beauty, the blonde princess that she had wished to be back when everything was happy and... muggley. Silence fell between the two of them, and her blush deepened as Malfoy's eyes roamed all over her face, searching for something that was only evident to him, and it unnerved her so much that her eyes fell down so that they were focused on her shiny black plimsolls, not noticing as Malfoy moved his face closer towards her own. "Granger, what are you talking about?" His breath hit her skin in a waft of peppermint and honey, and in that moment, Hermione thought that she couldn't resist any more, she had to feel his hands on her skin, his lips on her own. It had been the silence that had told her all that she needed to know. It had been him.

She flung her arms around his neck and pulled his face down to hers before pressing her lips hard against his own. Malfoy's hands pressed into the small of her back, pulling her closer into him, as though imitating the way they had behaved the first time. He had been too afraid to admit it to her, too afraid at what he had done to start off with, only now it seemed like the best thing he ever could have done, seemed like it was the one thing that could make him feel whole again and finally fill in the gaping hole in him. Hermione's lips moved in time with Malfoy's, almost as though they were dancing together, and her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she was sure he would be able to feel it against his own. Yet she still couldn't get close enough to him, it still felt to her that there was a huge, empty gap in between the two of them, so she pressed her hips against his own. Almost as though thinking the exact same thoughts, Malfoy picked her up off her feet slightly, shocked at how light and fragile she felt in his arms. Laying her down on the desk behind her, he broke the lock that their lips had formed from the frantic kissing. Leaning over her, he looked at her. Simply looked - into her deep eyes that sparkled with anticipation; at her perfect, soft skin; at the way her caramel curls shone around her head like a halo, sprawled on the desk. And all he could do was smile.

Hermione tugged gently, urgently, on the front of his shirt, eager to get it off and see his bare chest in front of her, something that she knew would just add to the beauty of the rest of his body. He wanted her so bad, yet he batted her hand away with his, instead intertwining his fingers with her own. He pulled her hands, so small against his own, up to his lips that still tingled from Hermione's sweet kisses, and he lay one single kiss on each of her fingers. "Malfoy." Hermione moaned, almost begged, the single word. She wanted him. No, she needed him. Pulling her self slowly up, she leant for his lips, to continue where they had left off... only they never touched. His finger pressed against the soft skin of her mouth, and he shook his head slowly, his eyes full of confusion. "I've wanted you for so long, Hermione. So long, so badly, but I'm not just going to let you slip away like those others. You're not like others, you're so much greater. It's almost like your smell, honey and coconuts, keeps me alive and when I catch you smiling I can't help but smile myself. Your voice is like music to my ears, and you're the only person that I have ever cared about. Please, don't take that away from me with just a one time thing, because I couldn't stand myself if I was back where I started, yearning for you but never able to have you. Please, Hermione, please." The pain in his voice was evident, and Hermione never knew that the boy before her could feel, had never once seen him show the faintest sign of emotion.

As he dropped his finger from her lips, Hermione closed the gap between them, gently caressing his lips with her own in a way that spoke of promises and truths. She kissed him slowly, carefully, as though trying to tell him what words alone could not say. She would wait for him, and she would do it happily, for she could finally keep him forever. The fire in her chest blew out to more of a soft hum as the flames were no longer over-powering her senses. This was Hermione in control, and this would always be Hermione in control. She closed her eyes, but it felt so bad to not look at his beauty. "Malfoy," she muttered past his lips, not knowing what she was going to say yet only meaning the words in conformation to what was truly happening, for if it was a dream, waking up would hurt sorely. "Please, Hermione, call me Draco."


	4. No Point Crying Over Spilt Pumpkin Juice

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own any of these characters, places or odd phrases, but if I did, I would make sure Draco and Hermione ended up married with kids ;)

**DEDICATION: **This chapter is to all of the reviewers, all those who added this story to their favourites/story alert, and you, for reading on despite the huge wait for this chapter, sorry for that.

**A/N: **Wow, it's been a really long time, sorry! I hope this chapter is worth the wait :)

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CHAPTER FOUR: NO POINT CRYING OVER SPILLED PUMPKIN JUICE

The noise of the Great Hall swam around the room, squeals and laughs, giggles and rumors, but to one girl, it all merged into a single buzzing noise, as though she had water in her ears. The wolf whistles and cat calls of the Slytherin boys as they checked out older girls went unnoticed to her, the general hubbub of the excitement that meant Quidditch season was drawing closer was little more than a whisper in her ears, the screeching as girls gossiped about some unlucky soul – probably making their life hell as they did so – seemed to not even reach her eyes. She stared ahead, an almost goofy grin set onto her lips that was the only sign of happiness, but more a sign of craziness, for she hadn't moved for the past ten minutes, just grinning and staring. At what exactly? Why would she be spending her whole breakfast staring dreamily in the direction of the Slytherin table? For one reason. She was Hermione Granger, a girl who had never dreamed it possible to get the one guy that males hated, and girls loved, the guy that every school had and almost every girl wanted, whether they knew it or not. The Alpha Male. Only just yesterday, he was the very person who she had locked lips with, who she had given her heart to in just a single night, in a matter of minutes. To think, her worst enemy becoming the one person she couldn't get out of her mind. You know what they say, love me or hate me; it's an addiction. And the line between love and hate had just gotten thin enough for this one Gryffindor to cross into the heart of a Slytherin player. Who'd have known?

If it hadn't have been for the sudden thump of metal against wood, she could have dreamt the whole day away, staring at the blonde head of Draco Malfoy, who seemed to not be able to touch anything that was put in front of him, staring straight down at the wooden table as though mapping out its every line, every feature. All Hermione had spent her time hoping was that he would look up at her, just for a few seconds, catch her eye and set her heart racing in the stupid speed that it did when she saw his grey eyes, a speed she thought impossible. As long as he wasn't getting sick. But wasn't it a bit soon for her to be worrying about things like his health, when they had only shared one kiss? Wasn't that the work of girlfriends, like Pansy Parkinson, who never seemed to leave her precious Draco's side? "Jesus, Hermione." At the sound of her name, the bushy haired girl looked up slowly, pulling herself out of her state of mind that seemed to revolve completely around Draco and his perfectly gelled into place hair of his. Her chocolate brown eyes looked into those of the person who had uttered her name, and in them she saw confusion and worry. Harry Potter stared down at her, before dropping his eyes just in front of her. Following his gaze, Hermione noticed the rapidly spreading orange of spilt pumpkin juice, and her own goblet rolling around the table. She blinked, and whipped out her wand, still dazed from spending more time in her fantasy than in the reality of here and now. Within seconds, the liquid had vanished and she picked up the golden goblet that she must have knocked over without realising.

"Sorry," she muttered, rubbing her temples slightly, not bothering to wipe the grin off her face. Beside her, Ron Weasley was looking down at her too, his eyes showing less concern than the emerald of Harry's, who raised one eyebrow at her slightly over his round, bottle cap glasses. Ron, however, looked away and stuffed an impossibly large amount of toast into his mouth, following it down with a huge swig from his own goblet that no doubt also contained the sticky liquid that Hermione had almost spilt down herself. Her eyes flickered back over to the Slytherin table, but hovered there for only a moment, before returning back to Harry's furrowed brow, the smile dropping off her lips finally. "What has gotten_ in _to you?" Harry asked briskly, surprising Hermione with his upfront behaviour and inability to drop it, instead pushing his way into her business, lightening scarred forehead and all. How very... un-Harry like. In fact, it was a completely _Hermione_ thing to do. She blinked, both to clear her head and to get over the shock of Harry speaking to her in the tone that she usually took with both him and Ron, never the other way around. In that moment, she felt like a three year old being scorned by her angry parents, and a wave of guilt washed over her. "Um, nothing, sorry, guess I just zoned out." Hermione apologised to her best friend, dropping her eyes down to the table that was almost clear of food thanks to her bottomless pit friend, who was still eating beside her.

"More like completely conked out, and flew to Mars." Ron muttered, having swallowed temporarily. "Sure you're okay, 'Mione? You haven't been right all morning, grinning over towards the Slytherins for ages. If I didn't know better of you, I'd think you had a crush on Crabbe!" Harry smiled, taking a mouthful of poached egg from the top of his perfectly cut toast slices. Blushing a little, Hermione forced a tiny chuckle out of her mouth, glad – as close as he was – that Ron hadn't found the truth out. No, there was no way that her best friends were both going to find out that she was falling for the 'Slytherin Sex God,' as he was known to many around school, but that they mostly just saw as their arch-enemy; Harry's greatest rival. After all, his father _was _a Death Eater, and - until last night - Draco had appeared to be following directly in his footsteps. Hermione could only hope that she was very much mistaken; that they _all _were. "Don't be ridiculous, Ron," she giggled, rolling her large eyes at him and pouring herself a new glass of pumpkin juice from the heavy jug in front of her. Ron elbowed her softly in the ribs, his jaw moving up and down frantically as he chewed. One day, that boy's jaw would stop working, Hermione was sure, for he ate such a huge amount. "Nah, Goyle's more her type," Harry shot at her, to which she shot back a sarcastic smile across the table. She loved it when they got on, for it seemed that lately things had been getting between them, mostly her own fallings out with Ron. After all, they did seem to have a love-hate relationship sometimes, without the dating in between.

Excusing herself with an excuse of needing some air, Hermione stood up from the table. Dark brown waves dropping past her shoulders, the front sections clipped off her face, her eyes fixed back onto the Slytherin table, doe eyes that were a deep brown colour and held a gentle gaze in them, except from when she glared. When Hermione Granger glared, god, did she glare. Only, she looked in the direction with a soft affection that would have made anyone's heart melt a little, if not completely. With slightly longer than normal lashes, small, smooth lips, and clear, pale skin, you could hardly say that she was unattractive. Turning on her heel, she walked towards the huge oak door that opened out into the Entrance Hall, slowly as though she was focusing on every step she took, the way that girls do when they first learn to walk in heels. Only, Hermione wasn't wearing heels, she was waiting. Waiting for Draco Malfoy to look at her. Hazel eyes still fixed onto the top of his head, she swayed her hips a little in a manner that was completely out of her own character, though, lately, she'd been acting that way _a lot_. It was almost as though someone else had gotten into her clever mind, and was working their way through life in her body. And then he looked up, his cool grey eyes meeting hers and warming softly as they caught each others gaze across the room. He coughed, and his eyes flicked away from hers, back down to the table, but the whole way out, Hermione could feel his gaze burning into her back, and damn, it felt good.

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"Draco!"

Hermione jumped up from the floor she was knelt on as the door opened, wiping her forehead with her sleeves to rid it of the sweat that was already building up there and causing her stray curls to stick to her head. There she was, back in the dungeons of Hogwarts School, completing the rest of the detentions that she had been set. Despite her sheer hatred for Snape, she didn't want to be stuck on cauldron mopping for the rest of her life, so had arrived a half hour early to get a head start. Besides, last night it hadn't exactly been her... main priority. Not with Draco sat topless in the room with her. She looked to the door, her heart rushing in anticipation to see the boy she hadn't been able to shake out of her brain all day. Only, it wasn't Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, but none other than his Slytherin friend, Millicent Bulstrode, a rather unfortunate looking girl with a face that represented that of a pug – more so than Pansy Parkinson. _Especially_ when she sneered the exact way that she was doing at the Gryffindor in front of her, whose sleeves were rolled up past her elbows and her skirt was slightly twisted and crumpled from where she had been kneeling. Hermione felt her heart drop in the same feeling you get when going down on a roller-coaster, her eyes widening in something between disappointment and horror.

"Millicent?" She asked, jaw dropping much the same way that he heart just had. "But... where's Dra-Malfoy?" Saying Draco's first name in front of Bulstrode a second time didn't seem wise, especially not when they were arch-enemies, and tended to use simply their surnames to address each other, on the occasions that they did, usually to threaten or insult one another. Millicent merely sneered down at her, walking across to Hermione and opening her palm in request for her wand. Reluctantly, Hermione let go of her wand, setting it down in the Slytherin's dirty hand, glaring up at the holder, as though sending a silent threat to harm her if she damaged her wand. Instead of replying to her question, Hermione merely got a sharp kick in the ankle that told her to get back to work, as Millicent seated herself at a chair just behind her, turning it to face her in a mocking manner. And it was like that Hermione worked for the next hour, scrubbing away at the thick layers on the cauldrons, her hands slowly getting dirtier and dirtier, until they appeared almost completely black. For the whole hour of hard labour, neither of the girls had said a word to the other, Hermione having giving up on asking questions since the very first one, and now she was just uncertain as to whether or not Millicent had the mental capacity to be able to speak, to utter a single sentence.

"He's with Pansy." Her voice seemed like a shout in the room, after such a long time of silence, and Hermione turned away from her latest cauldron to face the dark haired girl sat watching her, jeering. Hermione frowned slightly, her eyebrows knitting together slightly as she wondered what the hell she was talking about, not noticing that there was a dark smudge of grime on her nose from where she had been working. "What _are_ you talking about, Bulstrode?" Hermione almost spat at the girl, rolling her eyes and turning back to the cauldron, resuming her scrubbing. One more cauldron, and she's be done, just one more. Her back ached, and all Hermione wanted was to be in her dormitory, tucked up nice and warm in her bed, on her comfortable mattress, and sleep off the backache that she knew she would be feeling the worst of tomorrow. Besides, tomorrow she would actually see Draco, whereas today she hadn't seen a sign of him past breakfast. "You asked me where Draco was. He's with Pansy." Millicent finished, smiling as she saw Hermione freeze, hunched over her cauldron. All it took was a simple statement to make Hermione want to curl into a ball and cry. He was with _Pansy_? When he could have been with _her?_ She was, after all, the girl who had had only just given his heart to, had opened up completely and taken her into his. "They _are_ going out."

And then it hit her. The moment the words left Millicent's mouth, Hermione realised _exactly _what was going on. Draco Malfoy, the son of a bitch that he was, had tricked her into admitting feelings for him, by making her believe that he had feelings for her. How could she have been so _stupid_? He was _Draco Malfoy!_ It was almost as though Millicent got kicks out of watching Hermione suffer, though Hermione had no idea that she knew that she was hurting. Wiping tears out of her eyes with the back of her blackening sleeves, Hermione stood up proudly, head raised. "I'm finished." She stated, walking out the room. And, indeed, she was.


	5. Stupid Draco Malfoy!

**DISCLAIMER: **No, JKR, I am not stealing your work, though... if you'll take £150 for it, we have ourselves a deal :)

**DEDICATION: **Again, to Katie Laugher, (Mc-Laugher) because when I was writing this chapter, we got ourselves into a fight over Harry Potter. People who say that Harry Potter is stupid, and that we have some kind of sick obsession over it. Well, I guess that's just love, right? :D

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CHAPTER FIVE: STUPID DRACO MALFOY.

She cried. She cried and cried and cried, tears slipping down her face in gushing streams of salty water, drip-dropping from her chocolate eyes, eyes that looked so young with all the tears shimmering in them. Nothing but the sound of her tears kept her company, nothing making its presence known other than the sadness inside of her that was tearing around, ripping her heart up and slowly devouring it as painfully as possible, as torturous as possible, like a behemoth let loose in her very soul. Questions swarmed through her brain, questions that she would never get the answers to. Then stupidity, welling up from the pit of her stomach that made her want to throw up suddenly, in the hope that it would get rid of the horrid, churning sensation that felt as though her stomach was on a roller-coaster, or dropping down an elevator shaft. Everything about her seemed to be screaming in pain, her heart, her head, her back, her chest, her lungs, her stomach, her eyes. But still, in the safety of the empty classroom, curled up in a ball in the furthest, darkest corner, she sobbed loudly, no longer caring if she was heard by a passer by. Perhaps what she needed was a hug. But hugs asked for explanations, and explanations that Hermione couldn't give, was too afraid to give. If she told Ron and Harry what had happened, one of many things could happen, none of which would work to her advantage. They would either hex Malfoy, or cause him serious damage; thus resulting in their own expulsions, and Hermione to see the person who held her heart suffer, and for it all to be her fault. Or, they would ditch her all together, seeing her as a back-stabber, someone who loved the enemy. Either way, it wouldn't turn out well.

Slowly, she pulled her legs up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them and hugging herself tightly. Her face was damp from her tears, and she could only imagine how terrible she looked with her mascara dripping down in streaks on her skin, not that she ever wore much make-up. Closing her eyes in an attempt to stop the flow of tears from escaping again, she let out one long sigh, and loud and annoyed sigh, a sigh that showed both anger, hurt and disappointment in one, evil package. Hermione had never let anyone get into her heart the way she had with Draco, and it was all some huge plot to get at her, or Harry. Whichever it was, she kept playing the previous day's happenings over and over in her mind, the way he kissed her but wanted to go no further, the way that he opened up so quickly, the way he spilt his heart out. There was no way that that was the real Draco Malfoy. The real Draco spat the word 'mudblood' at her whenever she passed, glared at her and wanted to feel powerful. Hermione wished he would go stick that very power up his pure-blood arse, before she did it personally. One more sob slipped from between her lips, eyelashes feeling heavy and sticky from the tears stuck to them. She screwed her face up slightly, distorted to represent the distortion of her heart. Wasn't she supposed to be the cleverest witch of her age? So how the hell had she fallen for the masochistic tricks laid by Malfoy? The thing was, she never blamed Draco for a second; it was all her fault. She had fallen for his tricks, she had allowed herself to get in deep, and now she was the one who was having to pay. Seemed fair enough, right? Right, or, at least, she thought so.

"Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes flickered open suddenly, her heart racing in fear as to who could have caught her curled up, crying her eyes out way after curfew. A teacher? A ghost? A pupil? She couldn't quite think which would be the worst, having to deal with even more nights of detention and a load of verbal questioning, or Harry and Ron finding out via some stupid pupil spreading the nights events. Probably the latter, which caused her to jump to her feet, hand automatically snapping to her pocket where her wand was, in self defence. But when she saw who it was who had uttered her name, it wasn't self defence that told her to point her wand straight at their heart, it was her very own heart. For there, stood in the same room as her, looking across at her with a face full of mixed emotions, was his truly Draco Malfoy. "You bastard." She muttered across at him, narrowing her eyes and trying with all her might to stop her wand hand from shaking as she pointed it in his direction, wand at the ready. "You complete bastard." All the emotions wiped off of his pale face, instead confusion taking over. Time to play innocent, huh? "I'm not your _toy_, Malfoy!" Hermione shouted, her voice getting louder and louder with each word that she said. "You can't play around with me, because I point blank refuse to be one of your victims!" A stray tear dropped from her eye, which she angrily wiped away, furious that she couldn't remain completely strong for a single minute, a minute of confrontation.

From across the room, Draco began to step towards her, closing the distance between the two of them. Every part of Hermione's betrayed heart begged for him to come closer, to take her in his arms and tell her everything is going to be okay, but it was the part of her brain that was kicked into self-defence mode that worked the best right at that moment, and it was that part that she used. "Don't you _dare _touch me, don't you dare!" She shouted at him, her wand wavering slightly at her powerful inside voice kicking out. In fact, even Draco would have been scared. If he wasn't so damn stubborn. "Hermione, please. What's going on?" He tried to ask her, his voice quavering over seeing her in such a state, out of... fear? Or was it genuine sadness? Hermione rolled her eyes, showing her annoyance to Draco, before throwing her hands out as though showing she was giving up. The thing was, her heart had given up right back in that dungeon, when the realisation had first hit her. "Don't pretend you don't know! You tell me that you're in love with me, and then go and have a quick shag with Pansy Parkinson!" Hermione spat at him, not sure whether she was more surprised by the strength of her words or the fact that she had actually just used the word 'shag' in a sentence. She seemed to be changing more and more each day, stupid Draco Malfoy and his stupid heart stealing.

Despite the wand pointed right at his chest, Draco refused to stand still, with Hermione stood in front of him, tears dripping down her beautiful face and onto her robes, her dark hair knotted and sticking up as though she had spent hours running her hands through it. Grime covered her robes from the cauldrons that she had been cleaning, and she had a dark smudge on her left cheek. Walking slowly towards her, his hands up palm facing her in a kinda of sweet surrender that only made more tears drip from her glistening eyes, Draco felt too many emotions to list. How could he just play so innocent when inside he was tearing up her heart? All he had ever done was hurt her, all that he had ever aimed for. So surely he should be laughing in sheer joy, smiling down at her and then stalking off to tell the rest of Hogwarts about his latest prank. Oh, how they would all love to hear of the gorgeous Draco Malfoy's adventures in love, sex and, very soon, war. War between him and the beautiful Gryffindor that seemed to be breaking in front of his cold, grey eyes. And then, he was by her side, pushing her wand hand down and taking her in his strong arms as they wrapped around her. She pushed, kicked, hit, bit, anything to get him off her, but none of that mattered. All he wanted to do was hold her safe from hurt, safe from anything she thought she knew was true and was tearing her apart.

After a few minutes, Hermione gave up, sobbing loudly into his firm chest and allowing her hands to drop by her side. Wasn't this what she wanted, for everything to vanish? And in the moments that she was safe in his arms, everything seemed to magically disappear, and all she could feel was his chest moving as air moved in and out, his breath on the top of her head, warm and soothing. A wet stain began to appear on his shirt as her tears soaked into it, her sobs slowing slightly as Draco began to rub her hair. Only, Hermione knew that she couldn't leave it like this, she knew that she needed to get the answer out of Draco, before she gave him back her heart, just as he had taken it before - without a second glance. Feeling her legs buckle, Draco gently allowed Hermione to fall to the floor, curled up against his chest, as he sat down beside her. "Draco..." She mumbled, pulling her head from his soft hold and looking up at him, tears brimming. Genuine concern crowded his face, and her eyes widened a little. Draco gently pressed his forefinger against her soft lips, stopping the words that were forming on her lips, a hushing noise coming from his mouth. "Hermione, I should have explained." He started, and Hermione felt a sob get caught in the back of her throat as she listened intently.

Draco's hand went up to his hair, feeling that he already had the brunette's attention, and he ran it through his pale blonde locks, causing them to stick up slightly as he sighed. "Hermione... I love you. I love you way too much, and no one can know that, I'm sorry. If my father found out, well..." He cut off, not wanting to even imagine what Lucius Malfoy would do to both himself and Hermione if he found out about his son's love for a Mudblood, his eyes beginning to water at just the thought of such a happening. "You get the idea. And if I suddenly broke up with Pansy it would seem suspicious. I'm sorry, but I can't leave her, even for you. Trust me, I'll never love her, because all I want is you. Hermione, I'm in love with you, and nothing can change that. But right now, we have to keep hiding it. For your own safety. If something happened to you... I couldn't bare it." He frowned at the thought, looking down at the girl lying in his arms, her eyes once again twinkling with new tears. Sadness? Or happiness? When she reached for Draco's chin, pulling his lips down to hers, Draco knew it was the latter. Happiness.

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**A/N: **Like it? I'm sorry it's so short *shoots self* I could have written way more, I realise that. It's a little... action-actiony, whereas the other chapters have focused more on emotions than this one does, but hope it's okay :) THANKYOU EVERYONE FOR ALL THE FAVOURITES, I LOVE YOU.


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